


Pets

by wisting



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Gen, family stuff, kid Johnsons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisting/pseuds/wisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why Anders keeps fish. A chronicle of all the pets he ever wanted.</p><p>Edit: original draft up. Much more kid Johnsons interaction than the final version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Anders was three, he wanted a rabbit. They were fun to pet, and he liked to watch them munching on a carrot. Mum said no, he wasn't old enough to be responsible for it. Anders thought about it for a moment, then dumped his cereal on the floor. He spent the next hour mopping the house.

When Anders was five, he wanted a killer whale because they were huge and way cool. Mike said Dad and Mum would never say yes. Ty just yawned and drooled. When even cousin Olaf, on one of his flying visits, agreed that they didn't have anywhere to keep it, Mike looked irritatingly smug. Anders sulked for quite a while until he accidentally dropped Mike's toothbrush in the toilet bowl, and then he felt much better.

When Anders was six, he wanted a horse. He'd been watching TV and decided that he needed a horse to be a proper hero. This time he timed it very carefully and asked a week before Christmas. Even that didn't work.

When Anders was eight, he wanted a guinea pig. This time he actually got it, mostly because he immediately bought it off a classmate for a dollar and brought it back home after school. Mum screamed for a while then gave him a box to put it in. Ty asked what he was going to name it, and Mike laughed his head off when Anders announced he was calling it Carmelita. Carmelita was brown and white and dopey, and Anders played with her every day. About a month later, he woke up to find her dead. Anders promptly burst into tears. Dad was off on one of his trips, so Mum ordered Mike to bury it because Anders wailed even more when he overheard her whispering to Mike to chuck it in the trash. Ty only sucked his thumb and looked solemn, but a few days later Mike caught him trying to dig her up so he could give her back to Anders and Anders wouldn't be so upset anymore, right Mike?

When Anders was nine, he wanted a hamster. They were quiet and furry, and they never got too big to be cute. Also, girls loved hamsters. All you had to do was bring one and they'd crowd around you. He wasn't dumb enough to make the mistake of bringing a mouse instead like Johnny Thompson from next door. But Dad said no because he hated rats. When Anders tried to explain that hamsters weren't rats, he only got a long rant on the damage a single rat could do onboard a ship, and the remainder of Dad's beer.

When Anders was eleven, he wanted a cat. Cats appealed to him. He liked the way they didn't care. People could be yelling and throwing things and fighting and crying, and a cat would just stalk out with its tail held high. Cats didn't do anything unless they wanted to. He didn't ask for one though. Mum was busy being angry and Dad was busy being gone.

When Anders was seventeen, he wanted a dog. A great hulking dog, the sort that someone only two-thirds wasted would mistake for a bear, a big savage beast he could sic on people. Mike said don't ask in front of the kids again. They didn't have the money and they didn't have the time. Mike was holding down three jobs and refusing to go back to winning money at the tables; Anders had school and a job and the housework; Ty had his hands full between school and taking care of Axl plus whatever housework Anders hadn't finished; and Axl was still waking up in the night crying for Mum. Anders pointed out that a dog would be a good distraction for Ty and Axl. Mike said shut up and take the groceries. Mike was even more irritated because Axl refused to budge from where he was plastered against the pet shop window and Mike had to carry him off bodily.

So when Anders was twenty-two and had finally scrounged together enough money to get his own place, he bought a dog. A medium-sized puppy that would grow to be a medium-sized dog. But Mike was right. It wasn't in Anders to love a dog wholeheartedly, it wasn't in him to deal with the complete adoration a dog gave, and it certainly wasn't in him to feed and clean up after it day after day. After the fourth time the puppy ruined his carpet, he got rid of it. At a profit, of course – he wasn't Bragi for nothing.

And then he got himself tropical fish. They were quiet and undemanding, and they were the only things he trusted himself to take care of properly. He stayed away from Axl because it was too easy to get impatient with his baby brother, and he stayed away from Ty because it was too easy to screw him over. His fish didn't need anything except food and clean water, and those he could handle. His fish were quiet and undemanding and they stopped him from being the only living thing in his apartment.

He loved his fish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original draft. I kinda like it :P

Anders wanted a dog. He wanted a great big dog, the kind that could be mistaken for a bear by someone only two-thirds wasted. Mike said no.

“And why not?”

“Because we can’t afford it.”

“Come on, Mike. I’m not asking for a purebred here.”

“No, you’re asking for something that will grow up to eat as much as I do.”

“I’d love a dog,” said Ty, staring longingly into the shop window at a bunch of golden retriever puppies.

“And me! I want a dog too!” Axl piped up.

Mike gave Anders a look.

Anders only shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? Look, you’re usually out during the day and a large chunk of the neighbourhood knows our … situation. We’re defenceless. A dog could protect us from robbers. Or whatever.”

“Cut the crap, Anders. The neighbourhood is safe enough, it’s not like we live in a slum. Plus anyone who knows our _situation_ is probably smart enough to realise that we won’t have anything worth stealing.”

“We could have if you’d just do your gambling thing again.”

“Shut it.”

“I won’t. You could make things so much easier on all of us if you’d go back to winning money at the tables. You were heaps good at it, and it’s way easier than the slogging you’re doing, apprenticing to some dumb fat builder. Come on, Mike! Why are you making things harder for all of us? Look at the kids!” And indeed Axl and Ty were looking hopefully at them. Axl had plastered his entire body against the window.

“This is not up for discussion,” said Mike, his temper beginning to rise. He couldn’t help it. Rob had only gone under two months ago. To be precise, two months, three weeks and five days. He hadn’t visited Rob in a week.

“Big surprise,” said Anders. “You’re going to deny us loads of stuff because you can’t be bothered to plunk your butt down on a stool and play cards.”

“Don’t push it, Anders.” Mike grabbed Axl’s hand. “We’re going now.”

Axl tried to wriggle free, but Mike wouldn’t let go. “But I want a dog, Mike! Please?”

“Axl, nobody has enough time to take care of it.”

“I could! I’d walk it and feed it and play with it and everything!”

“You’re too young to walk it by yourself.”

“Ty could help.”

“Yeah, I could,” said Ty eagerly. “Please, Mike.”

“You’ve got more than enough on your plate, taking care of the house. I definitely don’t have time between jobs, and Anders will get bored within a month and dump it on any or all of us. Come on, let’s go. The milk is going to spoil if we don’t put it in the fridge soon.”

“What if we got a small one?” suggested Ty. “It wouldn’t eat so much.”

“I said no.”

“I want a dog,” said Anders.

“You’re not going to get one,” snapped Mike. “We’re going, and that’s final. Take the bags.” For Axl was turning mutinous, showing unmistakeable signs of refusing to budge from the spot unless Mike bore him off bodily.

“I want a dog.”

“Shut up, Anders!”

“I said, I want a dog!”

“You’re the second oldest!” half-yelled Mike, losing his temper. Anders had always been able to get a rise out of him more quickly than anybody else. “You’re supposed to be helping me, not being a pain in the neck!”

“I didn’t ask to be born second!” snarled Anders in a rare explosion of temper. “I didn’t ask for any of this shit!”

“Neither did I, remember? Now shut up and take the bloody bags!”

“Who died and made _you_ b-”

A little too late, Anders cut himself off. Ty looked up quickly. Axl’s lip was beginning to tremble. Seven months, three days. A bloody tree. A tree killed her. More true than they knew.

“You know who did,” said Mike. He stalked over to Anders. “All right. We are not getting a dog because we can’t afford either the money or the time. I’ve got three jobs, you have school and a job and the housework, Ty has school and the house and Axl to look after. And the last thing I want, the last thing this family needs, is for us to get a bloody dog and have it get run over or disappear or die and traumatise Axl any further. Am I clear?”

Anders wore a scowl. Without waiting for a reply, Mike picked Axl up and began walking, leaving the groceries scattered around Anders’s feet. He felt Axl’s arms go around his neck, clinging tightly. He wasn’t carrying Axl because Axl was on the verge of a tantrum anymore, but because Axl was a six year old who had never known his father and had just lost his mother.

Anders glared after Mike’s back. Bending, he started grabbing the bags, which were as full as they could be. A house full of growing males needed a lot of food, and between the three older boys, they had been toting a week’s worth. Even Axl had carried bread.

He became aware that Ty was at his shoulder, silently picking up more.

“I can handle it,” snapped Anders.

“I know,” said Ty and trudged after Mike, slinging the extra bags over his shoulder.

Anders turned to give the St Bernard puppy one last look. “I want a dog,” he whispered intensely. But as he turned away he caught a glimpse of his reflection, and it looked more desperate than angry.

Mike never did change his mind. Anders vowed he’d get one as soon as he moved out, and he did. But Mike was right. It wasn’t in Anders to deal with that complete adoration a dog gave, it wasn’t in him to love the dog wholeheartedly, and it certainly wasn’t in him to feed it and clean up after it. After the second time the puppy made a mess on the sofa and destroyed his carpet, he got rid of it. At a profit, of course – he wasn’t Bragi for nothing.

And then he got himself tropical fish. They were quiet and undemanding, and they were the only things he trusted himself to take care of properly. He stayed away from Axl because it was too easy to get impatient with his baby brother, and he stayed away from Ty because it was too easy to screw him over; but mostly he stayed away because he liked it better that way. His fish didn’t need anything except food and clean water, and those he could handle. They were quiet and undemanding and they stopped him from being the only living thing in his apartment.

He loved his fish.


End file.
